


For Worse or For Better

by emma98



Category: Captain America (Movies), Fantastic Four (Movies 2005-2007), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: F/M, darcy lewis: publicist for hire, fake engaged, fake pregnant, post Thor The Dark World, previous hookup, thank you fic for hitting 1 million words!, the taming of Johnny Storm, what could have been shieldshock, what could have been wintershieldshock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-28
Updated: 2017-11-28
Packaged: 2019-02-08 05:03:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12857322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emma98/pseuds/emma98
Summary: Darcy Lewis is a freelance publicist with many feathers in her awesome cap.  She's made Tony Stark the top facebook in all of the facebooks.  She's helped Thor to break instagram.  And now she's ready to graciously accept Maria Hill's inevitable job offer of lead publicist of the newly formed STRIKE, Stark's privatized version of SHIELD.Except Maria doesn't want to give her the juicy stuff, like making Steve Rogers into a twitter star, or rehabilitating the (hot) Winter Soldier's image.She wants her to reform notorious playboy and ne'er do well (and Darcy's one time hookup) Johnny Storm.This is going to take a miracle.





	For Worse or For Better

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rosiedeplume](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosiedeplume/gifts).



> So, this is for fantastic and awesome rosiedeplume, who won a one shot drabble when I hit 1,000,000 words published on Ao3. Three people one 5000 word drabbles (HA like I can keep it under 5k, I didn't get to 1m for nothing). Her request...
> 
> "Might I request Johnny/Darcy? I don't have a specific prompt, but maybe something where they sass each other but there are also feelings? I love it when they get banter-y ;) I'll leave the rating up to you because sometimes these things can go in different directions. :D :D :D"
> 
> This is what came out. I hope that you find this banter-y enough.

**For Worse or For Better**

 

* * *

 

 

At the age of twenty-nine, Darcy Lewis had definitely _made it_.  

 

Sprawling two bedroom apartment in Manhattan (Stark Towers, but STILL, Manhattan)? _Check_.

 

Student loans over halfway paid off (those bonuses come in handy, thank you very much Ms. Potts)?   _Check_.

 

Enough pairs of matching bras and underwear to make it until the next laundry day?   _Check_.

 

Fulfilling work relationships, friendships, and an amazing freelance career that made her feel like she was doing whatever good she could in this crazy messed up superhero world?   _Check_.

 

Really, when she was filling out aptitude tests as a fifteen-year-old kid in her guidance counselor’s office, she had no way of knowing that her _absolutely awful_ result of ‘guidance counselor’ would have led her to where she was.  She’d been a major-less super senior in college when she’d finally decided on political science because it and six science credits were the only way she was going to graduate before she became and super-de-duper senior.  

 

Those six science credits had come in handy.  The pursuit of science credits had led her to Jane.   _Jane_ had been the one to smack into Thor with a giant truck (she would hold dear to that for the rest of her life).  Thor had eventually brought Darcy to the rest of the Avengers, and one Pepper Potts, CEO and BAMF.

 

Pepper had tapped into Darcy’s social media skills shortly after the crazy Convergence in London, and she was about to leverage being the unofficial manager of the Avenger's official social media accounts into the assistant VICE PRESIDENT of publicity for STRIKE, the privatized, Stark funded SHIELD replacement.  

 

She'd spun the image of Thor, a motherflippin (hot) alien with enough strength and power to crush Midgard under the awesome and wonderful Mew-meuh, into People's sexiest man alive (Duh, sexiest, but Man? debatable. More like God) and a staple on late night talk show segments that delighted audiences worldwide.  She'd transformed Tony 'I'll put my dick into an electrical socket if it gets me attention' Stark's public reputation into stalwart and smarmy superhero, through the power of Facebook alone.  She'd turned the damned Hulk, who had destroyed HARLEM, into a political activist who wouldn't hurt a fly in the eyes of the public.  

 

And now, with the fall of SHIELD, and the creation of STRIKE, Darcy was looking forward to some big white whales to further crown herself the queen of PR, get an iron clad employment contract  and earn a few more bonus checks to wipe out those pesky student loans once and for all.  And maybe she'd even treat herself and buy a real purse and not the dusty messenger bag that had been her go-to bag since the last time aliens touched down.

  


And those great white whales were Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanoff, and that handsome Winter Soldier fellow that Captain America was currently chasing around the world.  Steve had evaded her sticky social media fingers, saying politely that he'd like to take more time getting set up in the brave, new world before becoming twitter verified.  Natasha had always been a hard no, thanks to spy activities, although the Black Widow heartily encouraged, aided and abetted Darcy's career aspirations.  And the Winter Soldier?

 

She already had an instagram ready and raring to go for all kinds of bathroom mirror selfies of that hunka hunka frozen man.

 

"Lewis," Maria Hill nodded as the young woman came breezing into Pepper's office.  

 

Darcy's grin grew wider and she balanced her incredibly powerful Stark phone in her hand as well as a trenti super charged iced and sugared something or other that the baristas downstairs had waiting for her every morning, noon and night.  Maria had also been a long time hold out on Darcy's publicity services, but now that SHIELD was in flames, all bets were off.  

 

"Maria, how's Fury?" Darcy asked with a smile.

 

"Dead," Maria was as deadpan as she had ever been.

 

"Hmm, then he DIDN'T post overnight french toast to his secret Pinterest?" Darcy waved her phone in front of Maria's face, who could only roll her eyes in annoyance.  "Tell him I said hi, and when he's ready to come back into the world, I'm ready to ease the way."

 

"I have bigger fish for you to fry, overachiever," Maria smirked, putting a file in front of Darcy's face.

 

The trenti iced coffee was hastily placed on the nearest coaster (she would never want to ruin one of Pepper's desks), and her phone was momentarily forgotten as she greedily reached for the folder.  This was it.  This was her big chance to show that it didn't matter if she was technically some young upstart with no real publicity training.  She was ready for the big leagues.

 

"As you know, when I came under the Stark Industries umbrella, we formed STRIKE, and with that, we formed a lot of new alliances in order to more efficiently privatize world security," Maria was talking, but she was also watching Darcy very carefully, almost like she was watching a child open up a big, special present on Christmas morning.  "Absorbing those teams, the X-men, the Fantastic Four, the weirdos in the midwest with the squirrel lady---that's been a challenge.  And I know you love a challenge, so we're giving you our biggest one..."

 

"Please, please tell me I get Wolverine, I really want to ask him a lot of questions about the sideburns," Darcy mumbled as she fished through the paperwork to get to the real stuff, the assignment that she would undoubtedly accept.   And the profile pic on the assignment page threw her for a loop, because at first she thought it was Steve Rogers.  

 

But it was definitely NOT Steve Rogers.

 

"STORM?!?" Darcy's voice was a high pitched, strangled shout that bounced off the expensive sculptures and paintings that decorated Pepper's office.  "No.  No.  NO.  NO NO NO.  NOooo. ...No."

 

"Out of all the superheroes in my index, he is the one with the most negative polling numbers," Maria shrugged, the smallest, knowing little smirk twisting her lips upwards.  "That's saying something considering Rogers just toppled an international organization. Maybe the polls were filled with wronged ex-flames."

 

"If you make another fire reference, I'm walking," Darcy warned.  "Thor said that I could go with him to Asgard and work on rebuilding LOKI'S image, and I'll do it, I swear."

 

"Lewis, I need you to make Johnny Storm a paragon of society," Hill said with her characteristic shortness.  "I also would like for him not to be a flaming ball of drunken lewdness at all hours of all days."

 

"I'm a publicist, not a nanny," Darcy snapped back.

 

"Alright, fine.  Then we're done here," Maria reached for the file, her movement slow and telegraphed so that Darcy could pull it back.

 

"What do you mean we're done here?" Darcy repeated.

 

"I mean, that if you don't want this case, that's fine.  That's your prerogative," Maria sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose.  "It's not an attractive case, I know.  But if you can't handle this for me, then I have no use for you."

 

"But---but the Winter Soldier," Darcy whispered.

 

Maria gave her an incredulous look.  A look that Darcy immediately interpreted as 'if I can't have you fix up Johnny Storm, how am I going to hand you a (hot) ruthless, cyborg assassin?'  And Darcy understood that.  She just didn't want to deal with Johnny Storm.  She had her reasons.  And she didn't have to admit to them.

 

But it was either this, or lose her lucrative bonuses.  Fix up Johnny Storm's image, or lose her awesome apartment.  Make Johnny Storm a functioning member of superhero society, or lose the totally amazing life she had built.  

 

And she loved Thor, but she didn't want to rebuild Loki's image.  At all.

 

"I'll do it."

 

* * *

 

 

"ARE YOU CRAZY?!"

 

Darcy sighed and pulled the modified laser screwdriver that Jane was brandishing in the air out of the astrophysicist's surprisingly strong grip.  She'd taken the file from Maria with a glare and walked out, before taking the JARVIS express elevator down seven floors to the R&D labs that Tony, Bruce and Jane called home.  

 

"Janie.  What's the sign say?" Darcy demanded.

 

Both diminutive brunettes turned to the sign that Darcy had commissioned for Jane's lab.  

 

"No sciencing when angry.  The world wouldn't like sciencing when you're angry," Jane read in a flat, monotone voice.  "But, Darce, this is ridiculous.  She can't DO this to you."

 

"She can, she's in charge of STRIKE," Darcy shrugged.  "So I either take all of my NDA's and try to get a real position in my field, with nothing put a plucky attitude and my very well groomed eyebrows.  Or---"

 

"Or you drive yourself crazy by trying to tame that reckless man cookie into something that the public likes again?" Jane scoffed.  "I haven't paid attention to anything in WEEKS, and I could still tell you that there were fifteen articles about Johnny Storm and his stupid, illicit, disgusting ways  this week alone."

 

"Thirty-three if you count the blind items that are actually about him," Darcy sighed.  "If it had been ANYONE else.  I'd do it.  But I think this is just Maria's way of vetting my skills.  If I can do this, she might give me the WHOLE public relations department of STRIKE."

 

"Darce, it's---that's not fair," Jane shook her head.  "You CAN do this, I know you can.  Everyone knows you can.  But at what cost?"

 

"My personal dignity probably," Darcy sighed as her body crumbled and she finally allowed her head to hang low.  Jane was the only one who knew.  And she had been sworn to secrecy.  She wasn't even allowed to tell Thor, really.  

 

Jane leaned in and put her head against the side of Darcy's.

 

"Say the word and I'll portal his fiery ass into the same coordinates I put the Dark Elves," Jane whispered.

 

"You're the best, Foster.  Now come on, let's grab lunch before I head off to my inevitable death via airborne STD's."

  


* * *

 

 

The Baxter Building was not a place that Darcy had ever thought she was going to visit ever again.  Not after that first and last and only time.  But here she was, signing in at the security desk and finding that Maria Hill had essentially given her a wide open free pass into all things Johnny Storm.  Apparently they had been expecting her.  Which said so much about Darcy's ability to turn down a challenge.

 

She nearly didn't get out of the elevator when it hit Johnny's floor.  But then she remembered the first time she had been in that elevator.  The feeling of hot finger tips trailing along the back of her neck, the ghost of a firm pair of lips working wet, scorching kisses along her jaw, the heady rush she got at the words escaping those lips at every pause.

 

' _beautiful... so damned gorgeous... fuck, do I want you, Lewis._ '

 

Darcy shook herself out of her memories as the doors started to close on Johnny's private floor.  She threw her messenger bag to prevent them from sliding shut then stepped out, looking around at the open air living area.  Not much had changed in the last three years, honestly.  It was still decorated like a frat boy with far too much money, looking suspiciously like it had just been cleaned by a professional service a few hours prior.  

 

Her knock off Louboutins clicked on the beautiful hardwood and she reflexively stepped out of them and placed them on the mat by the door that had a pair of dress shoes and a few pair of designer sneakers in a pile.  She looked around at the sanitized room lit up by the gorgeous light of late afternoon, but Johnny was nowhere to be found.

 

"Jo---Mr. Storm?" Darcy corrected herself as she walked through the living area.  "Agent Hill said she called you about our meeting?"

 

Darcy looked into the kitchen, smiling a bit at the sparkling, gleaming, never used appliances.  Darcy imagined that the refrigerator was probably in the same state it had been three years ago, empty except for energy drinks and bottles of expensive spirits.  

 

' _Babe, don't worry, Harry'll bring up the delivery and leave it at the door, no need to cover up, you just stay like you are right now and let me do this thing I know how to do with my tongue---stop squirming, you adorable little monster..._ '

 

Darcy shook herself out of it and turned on her heel, fighting the urge to run away and instead put one foot in front of the other.  All of her heroes in life didn't get anywhere by running, and she refused to let Johnny Storm, the memory of one ill-advised weekend with him, send her running away from a challenge.  

 

The Winter Soldier would NEVER run from a challenge, she was sure of it.

 

She stomped, barefooted all the way to the other side of the very spacious apartment, to the bedroom door that she had not seen in three years and barreled right in, no knock necessary.

 

"Wake up, Firecrotch!" Darcy shouted.  "Evacuate the playmates!"

 

"Huh?" came the muffled reply.  

 

Darcy had expected to see Johnny buried underneath a pile of surgically enhanced females, but instead, he was just buried underneath a comforter in a very, very messy bedroom.  Apparently the cleaning services did not extend to radioactive sites.

 

"Johnny.  Wake up. We have a meeting," Darcy said sternly.

 

The blanket covered mass on the bed rolled quickly and fell to the floor with a heavy thud.  Familiar, crystal clear blue eyes poked out of the blankets, followed by the rest of a flushed, pathetically handsome face.  To his credit, Johnny looked absolutely gobsmacked at Darcy's appearance, which essentially meant he REMEMBERED her.  And that was something she definitely had not been expecting.  Instead of being thrown off track, she shook it off and looked down at him with her most professional, no shit-taking, Natasha Damned Romanoff approved expression.

 

"Get up, get showered and get dressed.  We have work to do."

 

"M' I dreaming?" he asked with sleepy hopefulness as he stood up, shaking off the blankets quickly.  He took a few steps forward, confused when Darcy's face went bright red and she turned around quickly to face the door.

 

"Get DRESSED, Storm," Darcy ordered.  

 

"Oh, OH, right," Johnny looked down at his present nudity.  He shrugged.  "Not like it's nothing you haven't seen before, Babe."

 

Darcy bent over, not unaware of the muffled groan of appreciation from him at the sight of her pencil skirt clad bottom.  She felt a sort of thrill go through her that she tried to tamp down on immediately.  

 

She did not WANT Johnny Storm to be attracted to her.  She absolutely did not.

 

She picked up the nearest pair of underwear with ginger fingers, unsurprised to see that they were satiny lacy panties and turned and threw them in his face.

 

"Get dressed, our meeting starts in ten minutes."

 

* * *

 

"This is a cute place."

 

Darcy looked up from the menu she was needlessly perusing to glare once at Johnny before going back and reading through the forty-two different french toast options she had.  That would occupy her until her friend Cindy could finish at the counter before coming and filling her mug full of the good stuff and taking their order.  She had not wanted to ever bring Johnny Storm into The Foxy Lady.  It was her special all day breakfast place that she shared with SPECIAL people.

 

And Johnny Storm was not special to her.

 

But he'd walked out of his bedroom dressed in his usual playboy chic jeans, electric blue button down top with the sleeves rolled up just right on his forearms, and the his hair delightfully mussed and picture perfect in its just right messiness.  Darcy HATED his stupid hair.  He'd claimed he hadn't eaten in weeks, and before she knew it they were in the lobby saying goodbye to an absolutely joyful Harry and on the streets of Manhattan.

 

If she had to spend time with Johnny Storm voluntarily, well then she'd be eating the finest of breakfast foods for dinner while doing it.  She could just get her regular, or she could venture into the land of stuffed and decadent and sauce drizzled french toasts.  She had narrowed down her selection when suddenly a full cup of coffee was placed in front of her and Cindy was at their table.

 

"Where's Thor?" the waitress demanded, sounding every square inch like the single mom of two nearly grown teenagers that she was.  She flicked one of her many picture perfect braids over her shoulder and settled suspicious eyes on Johnny.  

 

"Cindy, you know very well that Thor is currently in Vanaheim," Darcy said patiently.  "He posted a picture on his instagram as a love note for Jane, remember?"

 

"Hmmm," Cindy arched a well manicured eyebrow, dissecting Johnny, who had the good grace to give her his most charming smile.  

 

It was actually, very, very charming.  Cindy almost broke out into a smile, but not quite.

 

"Thought this was Captain America for a minute there, incognito and whatnot," Cindy drawled out in her out of place, thick and firmly entrenched Philadelphia accent.  

 

"Some say we resemble each other a bit," Johnny replied with a winning smile and his own usually hidden Long Island accent unusually thick to match Cindy's.  He winked at her and promised, "I'm a helluva lot more fun though, promise sweetheart."

 

"Boy, I am old enough to be your mama, hush," Cindy ordered him.  She crossed her arms in front of her and stared down at him discerningly.  "What do you want to eat?"

 

"Uhm----" Darcy looked back at the eight french toasts she was trying to decide between.

 

"Not you, cupcake, I know you want the usual," Cindy waved her off.  "What's Steve Roger's bargain basement knockoff want today?"

 

"Coffee would be good to start," Johnny nodded.  "And---whatever sandwich that's spiciest, and then, I think if the lady doesn't object, I'd like to split the cheesecake stuffed french toast that's deep fried and covered in caramel sauce."

 

"Order it by number, discount Captain or I'm moving on," Cindy sassed.

 

"Number 15," Johnny smirked, before handing her the menu.  Cindy made a sound of dismissal before turning and walking towards the kitchen, shouting numbers at the cook the whole time.  "Charming place, babe."

 

"If you call me babe again, I'll asphyxiate you via splenda packets," Darcy promised with an excessive amount of cheerfulness.

 

"Calorie free is a helluva way to go, Lewis," Johnny snorted.  "If I gotta go, I'm gonna want the good stuff."

 

"Don't---"

 

"Good sugar is what I live for," Johnny finished, pursing his lips in a delectable pout.

 

"You are---you're DISGUSTING," Darcy accused.  She huffed out a sigh as Cindy dropped a mug of coffee off for Johnny just in time to hear Darcy's declaration.  She made a long drawn out sound of agreement before meandering away again.  "We have not spoken in THREE years, and you think we're just going to pick up the conversation where we left off?"

 

"Yeah, about that, three years, Lewis, what in the hell's that about?" Johnny demanded, hunching over in the booth to get closer to her as his voice dropped.  Cindy was clearly eavesdropping, and no amount of mumbling and whispering would deter her at this point.  But Johnny had to try regardless.  "You know my sister said something about it being a taste of my own medicine, and I gotta say, it SUCKS, dude."

 

Darcy shook her head, not willing to rehash why she had never returned any one of Johnny's alleged numerous phone calls three years ago.  He had never called, he was just trying to spin the narrative back into his favor.  Instead she turned in the booth seat to her messenger bag and pulled out a file.  She slapped it on the table and gestured grandly for Johnny to take a peak.

  


"You still working with Foster?  Uhm---the reports about London from last year were pretty wild," Johnny ignored the folder, instead trying to draw Darcy into conversation.  

 

"I have a different job now, hopefully with STRIKE," Darcy nodded towards the file again.

 

"Oh God, did they give you weapons?  Because I've seen you with a sink nozzle in a kitchen and you're dangerous," Johnny laughed, finally pulling the folder closer and taking a look.  His picture greeted him immediately and his reminiscent smile vanished.  "What in the hell?"

 

"I'm working in public relations, you and your various sexually transmitted diseases and your endless strings of conquests and your general stench of Drakkar Noir has made you a NIGHTMARE for reputable people like the REAL Steve Rogers to work with," Darcy's words were daggers that she was well trained in throwing, but for some reason it didn't give her any sort of satisfaction to see them slash at Johnny's cocky exterior.  "My assignment is to get you shined up again so that people trust you to protect them."

 

"Really?" Johnny nodded, his mouth pursed and angry.  "Don't seem to recall having a squeaky clean image being a prerequisite before I put my life on the line time and time again to save people.  No one ever seemed to mind before."

 

"Discount Dave's got a point," Cindy remarked, dropping off a to go box in front of Darcy.

 

Johnny looked confused before Cindy came back with his dishes.  Darcy handed her a twenty for her to-go box before draining the remains of her coffee.  She stood up and shrugged.

 

"It is now.  So either the Fantastic Four play with Strike, meaning YOU toe the line, or they're rogue," Darcy shrugged as she adjusted her bag and stood at the table beside Johnny.

 

"That's bullshit and you know it, Lewis," Johnny shook his head, he reached out and grabbed her hand, pulling her gently closer.   He looked up at her with an earnest and honest expression that looked far too good on his unfair face.  "That's not just me.  STRIKE has resources that my sister could use.  That hell, even Reed could use."

 

"I didn’t come up with the terms, that’s them. But they won’t budge and I guess it's better to play ball then," Darcy said softly, although she too thought it unfair for Sue to be punished for Johnny’s bad behavior.  "You have an event I lined up tomorrow at one of the places Bruce Banner likes to go.  Soup kitchen. I sent the details to the phone number on the file.   I'll see you there.  Enjoy your meal, Storm."

 

* * *

 

 

Johnny did NOT make it to the soup kitchen the next day. Darcy got an alert on her phone set up by JARVIS telling her that there was a blind item about Johnny wreaking havoc at a bar the night before, so she seriously doubted he wanted to do prep work on a truly enormous amount of food.  But Darcy was there, and so was Bruce, who patted her on the head and went about doing what he usually did every Thursday at the soup kitchen.

 

About halfway in, an insistent knocking on the kitchen delivery door began pounding and Darcy walked over to it, half hoping and dreading that it was Johnny, just a little late.  

 

When it was the pizza guy delivering a truly astounding amount of pizza for that day's lunch serving, Darcy sighed and drafted the gossip report about his good deed herself.

 

* * *

 

Children's hospital, women's shelter, after school tutoring programs---it was all the same.  Darcy would text him the details, he'd not show up, but would send lavish and expensive donations instead.  

 

It was maddening, and now there were entire online forums dedicated to dragging the superhero about doing things with his dick and his wallet instead of his heart.  It was driving her up a very high, very dangerous, very angry wall.

 

Darcy decided she had to play dirty.  She had JARVIS help her hack into Johnny's ACTUAL schedule and found out he was doing a commercial shoot in Central Park one week after their first attempt at a meeting.  She cashed in five favors from producers and actually had to promise that Steve Rogers would complete a set of PSA's for public schools, but she'd gotten herself into Johnny's trailer, just in time to see the disheveled blonde woman walk out of it.  

 

"Really?!" Darcy demanded as she walked in to see a surprisingly well put together Johnny Storm sitting on a couch, playing a video game.

 

"Hey babe," Johnny answered cheerfully.

 

"Did you even know her name?" Darcy demanded.

 

"Who?" Johnny furrowed his brow.

 

"The woman, who I'm assuming was just on her knees for you while you played Madden," Darcy ground out bitterly.

 

"Hey---no, that's not what that was," Johnny put the game controller down and stood up, his hands on his hips.  

 

"I thought that you might be willing to work with me, just a little.  Just give me an inch," Darcy said with surprising quietness.  "I thought---you might have even liked me a little, even though you clearly weren't willing to admit it and claim me, and I thought that you would be willing to HELP me do this."

 

"Lewis, babe, I do---" Johnny took a step forward, his brow furrowed with concern over her words.  "But you just---"

 

"No, no, we're---you don't want to do this.  FINE," Darcy threw her hands up in the air before turning on her heel and heading to the trailer door.  "Thanks for nothing.  Thanks for ruining my career."

 

"Lewis!  Lewis, wait!" Johnny demanded, rushing after her as she began speed walking across the little area of Central Park that had been turned into a commercial shoot.  He caught up with her and grabbed her hand, pulling gently to turn her around so that he could get two warm hands on her bare forearms.  "What in the hell are you talking about?"

 

"This is it, making you look better, making you acceptable for public consumption is how I'm going to make it as a publicist," Darcy blurted out.  "And if you can't work with me, what do I do?  Maria Hill isn't going to trust me with advanced cases like rehabilitating the Winter Soldier's public image if I can't reform a notorious playboy, and I have eight months of experience on the job, no one else would hire me.  So thanks for nothing."

 

"Not what I meant," Johnny whispered.  "But still that does suck."

 

"What did you mean?" Darcy blinked up at him.  He looked concerned.  And EARNEST, which was just so weird.

 

"I don't get why you didn't call back," Johnny said quietly.

 

"Calling back would mean you had to call me," Darcy advised.  "And you never did."

 

"I did," Johnny insisted.

 

"Whatever dude.  Just.  Let me go," Darcy demanded.  "Or I hit the panic button and this place?  Gets hulk-smashed."

 

"Okay," Johnny nodded.  "Just---just wait a second."

 

Darcy didn't have a chance to argue, because very suddenly her entire field of vision was Johnny's stupidly perfect face, and his lips were on hers and it was a dam breaking.  Suddenly it was three years ago, her first month in New York City after the entire Thor is real and he's an alien and he's real guys, helping Jane to get settled into Stark Industries, and she'd met Johnny and he was charming and handsome and INTO HER and her heart felt like it could be ripped right out of her chest and placed into too hot hands that could crush it on a whim.

 

"Stop," she mumbled into the kiss, and thankfully he did right away.  She took two big steps back from him, her entire face flushed red and she managed to shake her head.  "No.  Just--- It's too late."

 

It was too late.  Three years too late.

 

* * *

 

Darcy had a lot of Google alerts set up on her phone.  She had alerts for superhero sightings, she had alerts for certain blind gossip site updates, she had alerts for mere mentions of specific Russian words in highly specified word order.  But she did not have her own name set up, the simple reason being that she was pretty much a non-entity on the world wide web.  Since SHIELD shut down her Facebook after the Thor pic, they had essentially erased every fingerprint she had left on the dark web, the light web, the old Myspace she had signed up for two years before the terms of agreement's age requirement.  She was an internet ghost.

 

So there was no particular need to have an alert setup.  And after the prior day's disastrous kiss with Johnny, she had decided to wipe her hands of the whole mess and removed every one of the fifty-three versions of his name from her alert list.  The only alerts she had so far received on her lazy Sunday were one about Tony Stark's latest fundraising gala going off without a hitch and a blind item about Steve Rogers being spotted in a flower shop in Brooklyn three hours ago.  

 

Sunday mornings were for waffles, and the waffles were, sadly, not in her apartment.  She stepped into fuzzy warm slippers with a stuffed cartoon head of Thor of the tops of her feet and pulled on her star spangliest robe (yes, three quarters of her casual wardrobe was Avengers gear.  It was free and she had student loans to pay off), before meandering to an elevator to take her up to the common room, where she knew the magical Avengers Tower kitchen elves had made all the waffles appear on the countertops.

 

"Miss Lewis!"

 

Steve Rogers was standing in shock at her arrival, his hands full with a lovely, large sunshine-filled bouquet of white daisies, yellow roses and purple sprigs of freesia and also a stack of covered plates.  Darcy had one moment of confusion, seeing Johnny's face for a moment instead of Steve's, but shook it off quickly to give the Captain of the Avenger's a large, friendly smile.  She waved her hand at him slightly and looked at his full hands.

 

"Captain Rogers, do you need any help?  That's an awful lot of waffles," Darcy remarked.  "You had better have left some for me, I'm in desperate need of sustenance."

 

"Oh, well, it _was_ for you, please, uhm," Steve stammered, finding a place for the bouquet on a nearby countertop.  He then quickly found another space for the food containers before turning and giving Darcy a very critical, very thorough, very _concerned_ once over.

 

Darcy blinked up at the gorgeous man in her own concern.  She had only been able to meet Steve twice before.  The first time he had been on his way to Fury-appointed therapy after his road trip around the United States.  He hadn't said much, just sort of observed her, and then demurred politely when she had offered to get him twitter verified.  The second time had been just after the entire London fiasco with Thor and the Dark Elves just eight months ago.  

 

That time he'd been quiet too, but she had felt his eyes on her the entire time Thor regaled the informal party in the common room with the tales of heroics and bravery from London.  

 

"They're for you," Steve blurted out, holding out the bouquet.  He gestured to the food.  "Unless you'd rather have the food first.  I can understand if you'd rather have the food---"

 

"Whaaaaaaaat?" Darcy whispered, taking the bouquet even as her jaw dropped and she looked up at Steve in confusion.

 

"Well---I mean to say," he shook his head and closed his eyes, his cheeks flushing a beautiful pink color.  He seemed to be mentally straightening himself out, a silent internal pep talk of sorts and when he opened his eyes again, he gave her an honest, beautiful smile.  "Director Fury brought in a genealogist shortly after the Chitauri attack, it was part of my therapy."

 

"Fascinating," Darcy nodded, still utterly gobsmacked.

 

"It helped to know that I had roots in this world that I didn't know about.  For instance, on my mother's side, I have a living cousin that I didn't know about," Steve revealed, a quick, handsome smirk flashing on his face.  "She's eighty-nine, and a firecracker if there ever was one."

 

"So definitely related to you," Darcy joked back, taking a deep breath of the bouquet.

 

"Right, and on my father's side, there are---there are more relatives.  Three living, cousins---grand cousins?" Steve shrugged.

 

"Thrice removed," Darcy joked.

 

Steve laughed at that, and gave her a completely perplexing beguiled smile.  It made Darcy stand back a little.

 

"I understand that one of these relatives, has gotten you into a spot of trouble, Miss Lewis," Steve said with genuine concern and seriousness.

 

"Call me Darcy," she insisted.

 

"Darcy," Steve's voice was sort of breathy and beautiful.  "And while I know that my life is complicated, and there's Bucky to think of now, I'd be lying if I would say that this is a chore...doing right by you, that is.  I remember meeting you, even when I was so depressed and everything was in black and white and gray, and you and your smile were like technicolor.  I never could start something though, and now Bucky and gosh, he's going to be smitten with you when he comes back.  If he comes back."

 

"When, he comes back," Darcy insisted.  And then she shook her head, rattling her into a state of confusion.  "And what do you mean? I mean---what?  Did you say 'doing right by me'?  What in the ever loving hell does that mean---and are you courting me for Bucky? I don't…."

 

"Not courting you FOR Bucky, for myself," Steve insisted.  He grinned, bright and blinding.  "When Bucky comes back to himself, he'll want to court you proper, make you fall in love with him.  Bucky loved that part of it all."

 

"I'm so confused right now," Darcy whispered, her cheeks flushing at the idea of the Winter Soldier courting her.  Of Steve mother-fucking Rogers courting her.  Of both of them wanting to _simultaneously_ court her.  "I need to sit down."

 

"Of course, I'm so sorry, Darcy," Steve said quickly, taking the bouquet and lifting her up bodily before quickly striding to the lounge area full of comfortable couches.  "You shouldn't be made to stand in your condition."

 

Darcy laughed as his hand had no place to go but her backside as he lifted her up and off her feet with one arm.  He gently placed her down on the couch and she looked up at him in bewilderment, getting caught up in cobalt blue eyes for a brief second.  

 

"My condition?" she repeated in a whisper, staring at a pair of decidedly besotted eyes.  Those WERE Johnny's eyes.  "You're related to Johnny Storm."

 

"My Da had a ne'er do well brother, a gambler that somehow wound up in Long Island five years after the Great War.  Never looked up my Ma," Steve shrugged.  "He made an awful lot of money grifting people and his son turned it into legitimate property holdings."

 

"You're cousins with the Storms," Darcy shook her head in amazement.

 

"I know he takes after his great grandfather, reckless and careless, while Sue takes more after the other side of the Rogers' family," Steve shrugged.  "But I won't stand to see you hurt by him, not when you need more help than you've ever needed."

 

"Steve, what are you TALKING about?" Darcy demanded.  

 

"You're expecting Johnny Storm's baby and he left you," Steve revealed.  He reached into his phone and pulled it out.  "I---I saw your name trending on Twitter."

 

"You have a twitter account?" Darcy whispered.  "Why didn't I know about it?"

 

"Unofficial, I have two followers, Nat and a pornbot," Steve smirked.  "I just use it to keep up to date on things."

 

Darcy grabbed for his phone and looked at it, her eyes bugging out of her head.  Her name WAS a worldwide trending topic.  Along with #firebabywatch, #flamingbabymama and #fantasticfourandahalf.

 

"Oh my God," Darcy whispered.  There were paparazzi photos of her and Johnny from Central Park.  Kissing.  And Johnny staring down at her in confused concern.  And damn but the sweater she was wearing was billowing around her food baby and natural roundedness and it did look a little like she was pregnant.  "Oh my God.  Oh my God.  Oh MY GOD.  Oh my God."

 

"Darcy, calm down, sweetheart," Steve urged gently.  "It's not good for the baby."

 

"Steve, one, I'm not pregnant.  Two, I'm not WITH Johnny Storm.  Three, let's put a pause on getting married and a threeway with the Winter Soldier," Darcy rattled off.  "But just a small pause.  Because. I mean.  Wow.  I would.  You know.  Do that.  Cause.  Wow."

 

Steve had a pleased smirk bloom on his face but quickly shook it off and looked at her with confusion, "So you're not even dating Johnny?  Did you---did he love you and leave you then?"

 

"NO---well, yes, a few years ago," Darcy admitted, looking sour.  "But now I just want to be his publicist.  To turn around his image.  To prove myself to Maria Hill so she'll hire me as head publicist at STRIKE."

 

"By pretending to be his pregnant lover?" Steve looked at her with genuine concern.  He mulled it over and nodded,  "Babies DO make people happy."

 

"Yeah, they do," Darcy nodded.

 

"And really, in my time out of the ice, I've seen that one thing hasn't changed," Steve revealed.  "People like a comeback story.  Rags to riches.  Bad to good.  Redemption.  When Bucky is ready to come back---I think that'll help a lot actually."

 

"And I'll help you with it," Darcy promised.  "But right now?  I think I can spin this in my favor.  And I don't even need Johnny to help."

 

"Really?"  Steve nodded.  

 

"Yup.  Do you have a baseball cap?"

 

* * *

 

"Are you FUCKING kidding me?!?"

 

"Sue, baby ears!" Johnny put his hands over his baby nephew Franklin's ears.  He was fourteen months old, and while he didn't TALK necessarily, he did say things that seemed like words.  And if baby Franklin said anymore words that sounded like 'shit', 'fuck', 'god-damn' or 'asshole Reed', well, Johnny was pretty sure that his brother-in-law would be cutting Johnny's access to his favorite little man off.

 

Some of the anger blew from Sue's sails as she saw her little man with a big grin on his face as his Uncle covered his ears.  His baby giggle was warmth to her heart and she bent over and picked him up before slapping the back of Johnny's head.  

 

"You got Darcy Lewis into trouble?!  How dare you??" Sue demanded.  "Pepper Potts is LIVID, and she's threatening to black ball you from every event in New York City."

 

"What?!?  How do you know about Darcy?" Johnny demanded.

 

"I tried to hire her to take over Reed's facebook a few months ago.  She declined," Sue revealed.  "And please, Harry told me of your love her and leave her act three years ago.  My question is, why go back and try to mess up her life again?"

 

"What in the hell are you TALKING about?"

 

"Hell hell hell hell," Franklin parroted gleefully.

 

Sue kissed her son's forehead before juggling him in her arms to pull her phone out of her back pocket.  She pulled up the news article that had the large headline of ' _Taming of the Blazing Son: trapping the world's most notorious playboy with a baby_!'

 

Underneath the headline, Johnny scrolled to see a photo gallery of Darcy Lewis, looking beautiful, wearing a sundress that billowed nebulously around her waist.  He almost smiled at her, but then saw that there was someone holding her close to their side like she was precious cargo.  

 

Someone who looked like him, except they were definitely...bulkier.  

 

But the photo's caption said it was HIM, during a Sunday afternoon shopping with his pregnant babymama.  Apparently the picture was snapped right before they went into a high end baby boutique that Johnny himself had visited numerous times when Sue had been expecting Franklin.

 

"That's not me, Sue," Johnny said with surprising quietness.  "That's---that's fucking Steve Rogers."

 

"Fuck fuck fuck," Franklin repeated with joyous giggles.

 

"No Buddy, don't say that," Johnny scolded absent-mindedly, still staring down at the phone.  He was reading as quick as he could, and from what he could tell, the tone of the article was complimentary to him, talking about how he was stepping up and being a good man and future father.  But the article was decidedly not as kind to Darcy, accusing her of using her body to trap a millionaire with a baby.  "I gotta---I should---"

 

"Johnny, is that your baby?" Sue asked gently.

 

"Yesterday she wasn't pregnant, Sue," Johnny said quickly.  "This is---this is some kind of PR thing that's she's trying, to clean up my image."

  


"I didn't know she was doing PR work for you.  Do you think she'll look at Reed's---"

 

"No Sue, she's good but she's not going to be able to stop Reed from being an internet meme," Johnny said distractedly.  A slow smile lit up his face.  "Hey, do we still have an invite to tomorrow's Stark Industries fundraising luncheon?"

 

* * *

 

"Hello future father of my burning baby."

 

Steve huffed out a laugh over the phone but immediately followed it with a mournful sigh.  Darcy had only spent a full Sunday with Steve, but she was a quick learner and knew what that sigh meant.

 

"You can't come with me to the event today?" Darcy questioned.

 

"Sweetheart, I'm so sorry.  But Nat's found a lead on Bucky and we oughta go," Steve admitted.  

 

"It's okay, Bucky should take priority," Darcy insisted.  "How long will you be gone?"

 

"I don't know how long," Steve admitted.  "And I'm sorry for that.  If I could have Bucky here with me, I would."

 

"You still think he'd want to court me properly?" Darcy joked.

 

"Oh, I know he would, but he's just not ready for that, I don't think," Steve sighed.  

 

Darcy kind of knew what that sigh meant too.

 

"I don't know how long I'll be gone, and I don't want to ask you to wait for me," Steve said softly.  

 

"It's alright, you go do you, and find Bucky and make sure he's okay," Darcy insisted.  "I'm focusing on my career.  And when it's all said and done, we'll see?”

 

"Yeah, we'll see," Steve's small smile could be heard over the phone.  "I had a lot of fun yesterday, Darcy.  And I hope it helped with the Johnny situation, although I still don't like the looks of the news articles about you."

 

"Don't worry about me, I'm a big girl. I can take it," Darcy promised.  "You just go and find Bucky and when you're done, we'll have waffles and go shopping again.  Good luck, Steve."

 

"Thank you Darcy.  Good luck with Storm."

 

Good luck.  Yeah.  With Johnny Storm, she would definitely need it.

 

* * *

 

Pepper Potts never did anything halfway, really.  And the luncheon was lavish and expensive and was making money hand over fist for the Maria Stark foundation, promising to add to the coffers that they used to fund charitable projects all over the globe.  Darcy was on hand to make sure that Tony came out of the whole thing looking like a charitable champion on social media, even though he was falling asleep at the head banquet table, looking like he, Bruce and Jane had been up far too late playing at breaking the natural laws of science.  

 

It was easy work, and the paycheck from it would easily take care of her next two loan payments.  The event would have been more fun if Steve had been able to stay, as he would have dressed up as Johnny and they would have worked on making Storm's image even better.  Darcy couldn't believe what one day had done in the media cycle.  Johnny had gone from drunken, partying frat boy into father of the year material.  

 

It was awesome, and Darcy couldn't wait to shove the results into Maria Hill's face.

 

"Lewis, you adorable little monster."

 

Darcy's eyes went wide and she turned slowly to see Johnny staring down at her, looking very, very dapper in a single breasted blue suit that perfectly matched his eyes.  His lips were pulled into a smirk and his perfectly matched eyes were definitely of the bedroom variety as he stared down at her.

 

"How's my little firebaby cooking?" Johnny asked.

 

Darcy finished chewing and swallowing the bite of the absolutely divine stuffed salmon and held up two thumbs.  

 

"Well fed," she answered before popping another forkful into her mouth.

 

"No raw fish in there, is there?" Johnny looked down at her plate.  "You know that's on the no-no list for our little firebolt baby."

 

"Perfectly cooked," Darcy answered back.

 

"Where's Rogers?" Johnny looked around, a sour look coloring his features for the first time since his arrival.

 

"Busy.  ---Why?"

 

"I want to give him a talking to.  Cousin to cousin," Johnny revealed.   He shrugged and put an arm around Darcy before picking up a fork and taking a bite of Darcy's untouched green beans.  "Babe, these are good.  They have BACON.  Here---"

 

A camera went off as Johnny went to feed her a bite, and she did her best to not look completely awkward as she took the fork he held right under her nose between her lips.  The green beans WERE good.  As far as green beans go.  Johnny bent forwards and placed a sweet, lingering kiss on her forehead.

 

"I know you prefer your food beige, but you gotta get the right vitamins," Johnny said softly, almost sounding like the doting, loving father-to-be that Darcy had tried to paint him as.  "When Sue was pregnant with Franklin, it took a lot out of her.  Cause of the superpowers.  She was basically chugging vitamin shakes all day."

 

"Gross," Darcy wrinkled her nose.

 

"I'll mix them in with some milk-shake, you won't know the difference, Babe," Johnny promised, kissing her forehead again.  "You ready?"

 

"What?" Darcy breathed out.

 

Johnny pushed back on his chair, the sound of it scraping against hardwood was like a warning siren.  He got down on one knee and pulled out a ring box, and the amount of flashes currently going off were enough to have Darcy's eyes squinting and tearing up.  Johnny seemed unfazed and held the box up, a beautiful diamond set with fiery rubies sitting prettily in it.

 

"Lewis.  Babe.  Will you make me the happiest man in this whole world?  Will you make me a father AND a husband?  Please marry me?" Johnny asked, his entire expression beseeching and besotted except for the glint in his eyes, which was decidedly of the shit stirring variety.

 

Darcy's mouth pursed for a split second before she squeezed tears out of her eyelids and put her hands over her mouth as if she were crying.  She managed to nod a few times as the entire luncheon and press corps erupted into applause and the sounds of shuttering cameras.  

 

She managed to get her 'emotions' under control before holding out her left hand, a smile bigger than the sun on her face.  "OF COURSE! YES!!!”

 

* * *

 

"So, my future wifey.  Want to go and grab an ice cream?  Or go to the soda shoppe?  Or whatever it is that old fogey Rogers does?" Johnny asked petulantly as they walked arm in arm away from the luncheon, the press at their back getting the picture perfect shot of a happily, newly engaged couple walking away.

 

"Don't be rude about Steve.  He was being helpful and kind and adorable and lovely," Darcy scolded.

 

"Fuck. That." Johnny huffed out, walking a little quicker.  

 

Darcy had to really work at keeping up with him, as his long strides were much LONGER than hers.  She yanked on his arm to stop him right before the revolving doors of the well appointed lobby of the swanky Midtown hotel that the luncheon had been held at.  She glared up at him before reaching on her tip toes and pressing a sweet kiss to his pursed pout.  

 

The cameras went crazy behind them, getting the shadow of the kissing couple against the bright busy backdrop of Manhattan outside of the building.  Darcy pulled away and tried not to read into how Johnny chased her for more.  But then he put his hands on her rear end and pulled her up into his body, letting her heeled shoes dangle off the ground an inch or two as he voraciously kissed her, his hands hot on her ass and his tongue lasciviously licking into her mouth.

 

"Mmppph," Darcy wiggled in his tight hold.

 

Johnny groaned and immediately put her down, but kept his hands on her ass. He looked down at her with a tumultuous expression, equal parts wanting and annoyed.  He went to open his mouth but thought better of it.  His lips instead puckered and placed a lingering kiss on her forehead.  

 

"What are you doing?" Darcy whispered.

 

"Showing my fiancee and future mother of my children some affection," Johnny answered softly.  His hands squeezed a little, causing her to let out a surprised squeak.  "Christ you're as soft as I remember.  I love it."

 

"Stop," Darcy commanded.  "This is just about getting your image to a better place."

 

"Yeah?   And what if it takes a few more months?  What are you gonna do?" Johnny wondered calmly.  "Old Man Rogers gonna be cool with you making time with me?"

 

"Steve and I aren't a thing," Darcy hissed out.  "He was pretending to be you on purpose, mainly due to the fact that you absolutely blew everything I set up for you off."

 

A loud screeching sound started outside of the hotel doors and Darcy jumped in Johnny's hold before looking outside.  A large throng of teenagers had gathered outside of the hotel, all wearing Johnny Storm merchandise.  They were snapping pictures, crying, screaming, and generally exhibited advanced stage hysterics.  A few of them came armed though, and Darcy jumped in Johnny's embrace as he held onto her tight and blocked her from view as they began throwing literal GARBAGE at the hotel windows.  

 

"THIS.  This is why I can't go anywhere.  You really think a soup kitchen wants all of this at their door?  Or the senior citizen center?  If they know where I am they show up and they---they just never leave," Johnny muttered, grabbing her hands and leading her further back into the lobby.  He waved to the concierge and asked, "Do you have a backdoor?"

 

Darcy stayed silent as the concierge quickly led them to the service entrance, but that was swarmed with an amalgamation of press and over zealous fans.  These weren't throwing things, but they were shouting awful things at Darcy.  Johnny's hand was around her shoulders and he cringed even as his hands went all too warm too quickly as the choruses of 'slut' 'whore' and 'bitch' grew louder.  

 

"Can we have a room please?" Darcy demanded of the concierge.  

 

Ten minutes later, they were in the penthouse suite, Darcy seated on the overly plush couch, looking contrite as Johnny paced the length of the room, his hands heated so high that they were glowing.  He was on the phone with Harry from the Baxter building, working on getting a security and extraction team.  Apparently it would be necessary for two decoy couples to be sent out.  She didn't understand how she had spent the whole day with Steve Rogers playing at Johnny Storm the day before and had no interlopers or harassers find them at all.

 

They had paparazzi shots from afar, but definitely no one throwing garbage or screaming insults at her.  Her hands were still shaking from it and she found herself on autopilot, going to the wet bar and pouring herself something strong and amber colored.

 

"That's bad for the baby," Johnny managed a half-smile as he hung up his phone.  "Lewis, Babe, I'm so sorry."

 

"No, it's not your fault," Darcy waved him off as a shaky hand brought the glass to her lips.  She winced and sighed.  "I get why you blew off all the other publicity stunts."

 

"Yeah," Johnny nodded.  "I know you were trying to do something sort of good with this whole charade, but you do realize what kind of danger you're in now?"

 

"Well, I mean, not danger.  I have a panic bracelet and an itchy trigger finger on the not quite a taser that Stark gifted me when he became the most followed facebook in North America," Darcy gave one of her silly little smirks, the liquor immediately calming frayed nerves.

 

"Babe," Johnny sighed, walking towards her and taking the glass from her hands.  He put his hands on either side of her face, just cooled enough to be comfortable.  He sighed as he stared down at her, his face far too serious.  "One of the crazy fans basically started a cult.  She tried killing someone last year and is in PRISON."

 

"Shit," Darcy winced.

 

"And let's not even get into the actual bad guys," Johnny sighed.  "It's why after you never called me back the first few weeks, I didn't try to---track you down.  I thought it might be smarter that you blew me off."

 

"I didn't blow you off," Darcy whispered.  

 

"You keep saying that, but I remember how shitty that felt," Johnny let a thumb caress her cheek as soft as he dared.  "All I wanted was to hear your voice.  This amazing girl who I thought was the---who I really really liked."

 

Darcy wondered what he was about to say, but she didn't get the chance to ask because he was kissing her again, and really, Johnny Storm didn't really give her much notice before bestowing the intimate affection.  And it was affection.  It was longing and it was real and Darcy could feel herself being swept away with it, like she was in a small paddle boat in a raging river, about to be tipped over at any moment.  

 

"So gorgeous," Johnny's whisper was on a ragged breath when he pulled away.  "You're not with Rogers?"

 

"No, we---the timing was off," Darcy whispered back.

 

"Good," the word was husky and deep and Darcy took a step back, because he looked predatory.  

 

And dangerous.

 

And damn it all to hell, but she really wouldn't mind being devoured whole by the wolfish man standing a breath away from her.

 

"Can the timing be right for us?"

 

Darcy blinked up at him, not quite understanding what he was asking for.

 

"I'm not sleeping with you without a full STD panel," Darcy said quietly.

 

Johnny deflated and stepped back like a wounded animal.

 

"Oh please, forgive me for not thinking that you might be a little---penicillin resistant," Darcy snapped, all fire and vinegar suddenly.  "I walked in on you the other day being serviced by a random fangirl."

 

"When?!?" Johnny demanded.

 

"The blonde, Johnny, in your trailer," Darcy couldn't believe he didn't even REMEMBER.  She shook her head violently before beginning to walk away.  

 

"Do you mean, Vanessa?" Johnny asked, following her close.  

 

"Oh, she has a name?" Darcy snapped.

 

"Yeah, she's Franklin's nanny, of course she has a name," Johnny stopped Darcy as she grabbed for her purse, his hand warm on her wrist as he turned her to face him.  

 

"The nanny?  Honestly?  That's so cliche, even for you!" Darcy's laugh was bitter and bordering on hysterical.  

 

"I'm not fucking the nanny, Lewis!" Johnny barked out.  He let go of her and ran his hands through his hair in frustration.  "You stole my damned---you stole my mojo, I haven't---"

 

"You mean to tell me you haven't been with anyone in three years?" Darcy scoffed.

 

"No, I---there were just a few times," Johnny sighed.  "After I got over you, sort of, I realized that, I don't know, shit.  That I wanted something real.  So I looked."

 

Darcy swallowed and looked up at him with a deeply discerning gaze, not really wanting to believe it.  But he seemed so...earnest.  It felt foreign for him.  He was really, really trying to be sincere, to tell her the truth.  It was because the trademark quips and nonchalance were gone, and as much as she had always liked those qualities of his, she had to admit that in this moment, it felt nice to have it missing.  

 

He was telling the truth.  He HAD tried to contact her.  He had PINED for her.

 

Johnny brought his hands up to her cheeks again, warm and inviting.  His touch was soft and reverential and he gave her a look of resolve before whispering,

 

"No one could hold a candle to you."

  


Darcy took in a little, shaky breath before swallowing again, her gaze never wavering from his as she tried to wait it out, to see if he'd crack a joke and smirk and be flirtatious and silly.  He didn't.  So she couldn't.  

 

His hands dropped from her face as she moved quick, launching herself up on her tip toes.  He met her halfway, his hands falling to her rear end again and pulling her greedily into his body as their lips met again, this time both equally as eager and searching.  It was a time skip to three  years ago, when Darcy had been swept away by his charm and gleefully ignorant to his philandering nature and Johnny was eager to please the pretty girl who'd made him snort with laughter in a crowded superhero meeting.

 

She was sweating in  no time, feeling the heat racket up on his skin and she didn't hesitate in stepping back, her eyes watching as his tongue ran over his own kiss bruised bottom lip.  His eyes were dark and he took in a shaky breath when she reached for the hem of her top, pulling it up and off.

 

"Is it okay?" Johnny whispered, his one eyebrow arching playfully.

 

"Usually when a girl takes her shirt off, it means green light," Darcy sassed back.  "I guess you really are out of the game if you don't realize that."

 

"I didn't mean whether you were giving consent, I know you want this.  Not as much as I do, but still," Johnny oozed charm as he took her by the hand and pulled her along to the bedroom of the suite.  He pulled off his own shirt to reveal the specialized superhero onesie he wore that was resistant to his signature flames.  He began to unzip that monstrosity while Darcy quickly followed suit, shedding her clothing just as quickly.  

 

He stopped when he got the skin tight material of his suit to his waist to bite his lip and stifle a groan as Darcy was now down to just a bra and panties.  He reached out to touch her, the soft, silky curves that had haunted him for far too long after their weekend together.  She made an impatient wave of her hand, obviously wanting to see more of his skin in return.  

 

"You sure it's okay for us to be doing this?"  Johnny questioned again, the smirk back as he somehow made the very unsexy act of taking of the equivalent of a tacky sticky wet suit sexy.

 

"We're two consenting adults, Johnny," Darcy shook her head in amusement, and then licked her lips as he worked the last of the suit off, standing their in the buff, his erection jutting up proudly, hard and ready and aching for her touch.  "Two---uhm.  adults."

 

"I meant, if it's okay to be doing this with the baby and all. I wouldn't want to hurt it," Johnny said with absolute seriousness.  His bark of laughter as Darcy tackled him to the bed rattled the windows.  "What if I hit it's head though?"

 

“You know it’s funny that Steve had the same concern,” Darcy sassed back quickly, then let out a shriek of delight as Johnny went on the immediate offensive, sliding down her body and pulling on her thighs so they parted.  

 

“Cap wishes he could,” Johnny nosed at the cotton of her panties, he pulled the the already dampening fabric to the side before taking an indulgent lick of her lips and making an exaggerated _‘mmmm_ ’ sound.  “I’m starving.”

 

“You should have had more to eat at the fundraiser,” Darcy chided.  She gasped and her back arched up and off of the bed as she reached down and grasped onto the brown locks between her thighs.

 

“Yes, Babe, tell me where to go, you know I like that,” Johnny encouraged.

 

And she did know.  She and Johnny had spent forty straight hours at his place at the Baxter Building three years ago, and he had spent a surprisingly inordinate amount of time with his face between her thighs.  And she had never forgotten it.  It had been on the permanent highlight reel, actually, getting her through many a cold and lonely night.  

 

Johnny was remarkably talented with his mouth.  Darcy could never predict what he would do next, as there was no set rhythm or gameplan he followed, one second swirling his tongue against the wetness ebbing out of her, the next taking her aching clit between his lips.  She writhed under his ministrations, and he guided her right leg so that her foot set on his shoulder and gave him wide open access to what he was eagerly devouring.

 

“I’m gonna, oh god, I’m---” Darcy whimpered as she rocked herself against his sinful smile.  

 

His middle finger eased inside of her and gave her a tentative stroke as he sucked on her clit and every muscle in her body seized as a broken moan fell from her lips.  He stroked her through her orgasm, gently nosing at her clit as she came down, her thighs twitching against his face.  

 

“You’re so damned gorgeous, Babe,” Johnny praised as one finger became two, stretching and lazily stroking inside of her.   “Got another one for me?”

 

“Condom?” Darcy asked before moaning again as he curled his fingers inside of her just right.  

 

“Right, uh---pants, pants,” Johnny withdrew and hurried off the bed, simultaneously looking around for the pants he discarded as well as Darcy as she got rid of her underwear and bra entirely.  His distraction had him knocking into the bedside table and cursing.  

 

“Johnny, ease up, it’s not going anywhere,” Darcy promised, struggling into a sitting position and reaching for a pillow.  She herself scrambled to get the pillow under the duvet and position it just so before lying down on her stomach so that the pillow propped her midsection up.  She hitched one of her legs up and then turned to wink at him knowing very well what a pretty, enticing picture she made presented in such a way.

 

Johnny was speechless for a moment, holding his clothing all bunched up in his hands.  She winked at him and he shook himself out of his stupor and retrieved the strip of condoms from his wallet.  Specially made to handle stronger and hotter than average sperm.  

 

“It’s easy to say that it’s not going anywhere,” Johnny ripped one of the foil packets off and tossed the others on the bedside table.  He wasted no time in stroking his length before opening the condom and rolling it down his length with a practiced hand.  “But I’ve been waiting damned near three years for you, Lewis.  I dreamt about you.”

 

“I’m that good, huh?” Darcy whispered as she hitched her leg a little higher on the pillow.  

 

Johnny crawled back onto the bed and went to her, planting his arms on either side of her and leaning down for a lingering, lay kiss on her mouth,    She was soft and warm beneath him, and the little moans she made as his tongue swirled along with hers were the stuff his aforementioned dreams were made of.

 

“Mmmph, c’mon, get to the good parts,” Darcy teased as she broke the kiss.

 

Johnny nodded and brought one hand down to her center, stroking her lips with a light touch before taking his erection in his hand and tracing the touches his fingers had just made.  He smied wolfishly when her eyes fluttered closed and she let out a high pitched little moaning sound.  He pushed forward sinking into her incredible, close warmth and groaning at the feel of her.

 

She was the softest thing he’d ever felt in his whole life.  And he tried his hardest to memorize the feeling of pushing into her, feeling tender walls stretch around him and envelop him in that soft warmth he had been craving from the moment he had kissed her goodbye three years ago.  

 

His body was laid out against her back and her head was turned to him and she had the most blissful expression on her face, her eyelid fluttering as he slowly pulled out, only to push back in.  He kept that steady, slow pace, even as his breath became scarce, until she was mewling beneath him, begging wordlessly for more.

 

Darcy’s eyes opened when his forehead rested on hers and she stared up into those cobalt blue eyes, searching for any hint that this didn’t mean the world to him, that it was all some kind of really well done ploy.  He gave her a small earnest smile before kissing her and quickening his pace.

 

“Since you’re going to marry me, and you’re carrying my good PR baby, I---I think you should move into the Baxter Building,” Johnny stammered as he pistoned in and out of her body with increasing speed and desperation.

 

“Too fast,” Darcy warned, before making an upset little growling noise when he slowed his hips.

 

“Adorable little monster,” Johnny smirked.  He pressed a wet, sloppy and breathless kiss against her jaw before going back to a quicker pace.  “Just wanna keep you close.”

 

Darcy bowed her back underneath him and shimmied her hips as much as she could with him above her.  

 

“M’not letting you go this time,” Johnny promised, biting his bottom lip as he saw Darcy’s hands clenching fistfuls of the blankets. He felt her flutter around him and groaned before quickly reaching for her hand and untangling the sheets from her fist.  He guided her hand to between her legs and they both moaned when she began rubbing at her clit.  “C’mon babe.  C’mon, let me feel you come.”

 

“ _Shit_ ,” Darcy whispered as she rapidly circled her clit with eager and practiced fingers.  Her hips began rocking beneath him, it took an embarrassingly short amount of time for her to begin quivering again.

 

“Yeah, still got it,” Johnny groaned as she came around him, squeezing and clutching his length until he felt the tingles go down his spine and he gave a few, quick strokes before emptying himself with a breathy, wrecked moan.  When he surfaced she was giving him a playful little smirk that only faltered for a moment as he pulled out of her carefully.  “What?”

 

“The baby didn’t feel that at all,” Darcy impishly told him  “You’ll have to try harder next time.”

 

“So long as there is a next time, babe.  I’m good.”

 

* * *

 

The press became obsessed with watching Darcy's waistline.  It was a good thing she had a healthy amount of confidence in her body image.  And it also helped that she was now engaging in more cardiovascular activity than she ever had before.  Granted, it was naked cardio and she was still in the bed (most of the time) for said calisthenics, but she worked up a good sweat regardless, so she counted it as 'working out'.  

 

Darcy kind of figured out where Johnny had obtained his party boy image.  He didn't actually go out and do a lot of partying.  Due to his rabid and overly enthusiastic fan base with no concept of personal boundaries or stalking laws, in addition to the absolute joy that was his baby nephew Franklin Richards, Johnny spent a lot of evenings at home in the Baxter building.  

 

When he was obligated to go out for a contractual obligation or a promise to a friend, the press made such a spectacle out of it that it seemed far more lurid than it actually was.

 

And while Johnny had spent a good amount of his time from his eighteenth year until his twenty-fifth year trying to hook up with any woman or man that crossed his path, since he had met Darcy, he had slowed down.  Harry, the adorable doorman to the Baxter building had sworn it on a stack of bibles to Darcy, unprompted by Johnny himself.  But there had been a three year period where people STILL talked about Johnny coming on to anything that moved.

 

They were sitting at The Foxy Lady cafe, Cindy had been keeping the coffee flowing as the duo avidly worked through three elaborate breakfast dishes, two savory, one sweet and Darcy's phone vibrated on the seat next to her.  She picked it up and rolled her eyes.

 

"What's it this time, Babe?" Johnny wondered, before winking playfully at Cindy as she topped off his mug again.  

 

"You apparently were just sighted getting serviced by a barista in San Francisco," Darcy huffed out an exasperated laugh.  The tagged tweet was retweeted a few dozen times in the span of thirty seconds.

 

"I gotchu, babies," Cindy promised, pulling out her own phone and taking a purposely hazy picture of the two of them before tweeting it out into the world.

 

"hashtag firebaby is enjoying the pancake burger at The Foxy Lady’s." Darcy read out before smiling at Cindy.  "We have ten more minutes before the horde descends.  Thanks Cindy."

 

This had been their game for the last six weeks.  Darcy had orchestrated a campaign with the more reputable gossip and entertainment magazines and websites, and they got 'exclusives' and 'mystery sources' close to Johnny's camp feeding them little, adorable details about the burgeoning relationship between the superhero and his publicist.  They never confirmed or denied the presence of a bun in the oven, and they never spoke about when they would be getting hitched.  

 

So on days that Darcy was wearing anything form fitting, she was 'not pregnant', but actively trying.  And on days she wore a loose sweater, she was glowing and beaming with super baby hormones.  Either way, Johnny's approval ratings were way up and Maria Hill had offered her the job.  

 

And the thing between Darcy and Johnny?  Was doing pretty damned spectacular too.  Darcy enjoyed staying in most nights either at Stark Towers or the Baxter Building.  The chemistry was lovely, Johnny seemed sincere and Darcy had decided to put her trust in him as they started to build something new and lovely and beautiful.

 

Johnny's phone buzzed and he sighed, "Security says the horde is fast today, let's go, babe."

 

"But hamburger pancake," Darcy whined softly.

 

Cindy dropped off a bag of to go food with a wink as Johnny left a few generous bills to handle their tab.  They got to the front door just in time to see a group of voracious fans at the end of the block and Johnny grabbed her hand, ready to run.

 

But then the girls and various questionably aged men that were 'Johnny Storm's Defense Squad' started to go down one by one.  Darcy gasped, worried they were being sniped and took a few steps forward to see a dart hit one of the in the neck.

 

"What in the hell?" Johnny blinked in confusion as the people they were running from fell into a collective heap of unconsciousness.  In thirty seconds, the threat was gone and a large, hulking figure dressed in a very convincing homeless person's costume came melting out of the shadows of an alleyway next to the restaurant.

 

"Oh. My.  Thor." Darcy whispered, dropping Johnny's hand and taking a step forward.

 

"You alright, Doll?" the homeless man asked, the sun glinting off his left hand as he took a step towards Darcy, steely blue eyes looking over every inch of her.  

 

"Mmhmm," Darcy answered, her eyes as wide as saucers as the Winter Soldier slowly gave her a panty melting smirk.  It was obvious to her now, that when Steve took her out in Johnny's disguise six weeks ago, SOMEONE was protecting them from Johnny's usual fan frenzy.

 

"Punk coulda done more to protect you.  Don't worry, Doll, I know how to take care of the finer things in life," Bucky Barnes answered as he looked to Johnny, then squinted in confusion, as if realizing for the first time that Darcy's other escort wasn't Steve Rogers.  "Wait a second..."

 

"Oh boy," Darcy sighed.  Johnny was heating up next to her, clearly annoyed at Bucky's sudden appearance.  Things were about to get a little complicated.  "Let's call Steve, the real Steve.  Okay?"

  
  


* * *

 

**Author's Note:**

> And thus began the beginning of Darcy's superpowered harem. She's great at sharing. herself. 
> 
> Just kidding, Johnny and Darcy live happily ever after. Bucky and Steve pine and annoy Johnny with their pining. It's fun for everyone!
> 
> The title of this came from a Kelly Clarkson lyric. I love all of Kelly Clarkson's music way too much for my own good. 
> 
> THANKS FOR READING AND THANKS FOR YOUR CONTINUED SUPPORT OF MY SILLINESS!!!


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